Before the Four
by quillofthoth
Summary: The founding four? The stories lie.


" _There lived four wizards of renown_

 _Whose names are still well known;_

 _Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

 _Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

 _Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

 _Shrewd Slytherin, from fen."_

 _-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

Ennui had settled over Salazar Slytherin like a cold mist on a fall morning. It had come to stay and he could think of nothing to lift it. Salazar was bored, he felt it in his bones. He felt it when he put down his book, sent to him by one of the many "friends" he had acquired over the many years. He felt it as he fed his animals; wolves, ravens, and of course, snakes. In his past he had sent his snakes across the world to gather information and bring it back to him, now he only sent them out to check the weather, to see if it was fit for a walk.

Today was not fit for a walk, it was rainy with winds that could rip trees out of the ground and the distant sounds of approaching thunder.

He had tried to entertain himself with a new book sent to him by a Prince he had met in his travels many years ago. Growing tired of his book he stared into the fire, watching it slowly die down from the roaring blaze into soft glowing embers.

He thought about lifting his finger to light it again, the wetness of the air reached his bones surprisingly quickly, but just as he was lifting his hand to do so, thunder sounded right outside, even high in his tower a wizard like Salazar had nothing to fear from a storm,it was the sound that came after the thunder that caused him concern, the sound of thudding footsteps coming up his stairs.

Salazar reached for his staft, it was reflex, before remembering that he hadn't carried it in years. It was upstairs, next to his bed. Salazar stood and waited, although he wished he had more weapons on him then just his own hands and wits.

The door of his library flew open. A man stood in the doorway. He had a great tangle of fiery red hair and a mess of a beard to match. He wore a knee length tunic of a rich blue with a long brown traveling cape covered in mud, Salazar thought he saw a glint of a sword under the cape, but what caught Salazar's attention was the lunatic looking hat sitting on his head, it was a raggedy pointed hat, with two long inane pieces of cloth hanging pointlessly off of it.

"Salazar Slytherin?" The visitor called in a loud booming voice.

"I am here." Salazar said, throwing a little bit of power into his voice so it echoed. "Who calls?"

"I am Godric Gryffindor!" The man bellowed out. Salazar had heard that name before, Gryffindor had led the last war against the Goblins. Salazar had never liked Goblins greedy, tricking, child eating, long fingered, war brewing, beasts.

"What brings a war hero like Gryffindor to my home?" He asked relaxing slightly with the knowledge of who the intruder was.

"A dangerous dragon is roaming the countryside, I have tried to fight it on my own, unfortunately it was only after a nasty bit of business with a few commonfolk, one or two small towns and a nasty near death experience, when I heard about you and thought an extra pair of hands might be nice."

"An extra pair of hands?" Salazar asked, disbelief coloring his voice. He, Salazar Slytherin, the greatest wizard of his time was reduced to "an extra pair of hands".

Godric nodded "Well, are you coming?"

Salazar stared at the young man "You barge into my home, unannounced, and assume I'm going to help you with a dragon."

Godric stared blankly at him. " It's terrorizing the countryside, destroying every town it passes."

"And? That gives you permission to storm in here, leaving your manners at the door?"

The wind picked up in the room, whirling around Godric's cloak, the ravens cawed and the wolves growled, snakes sild into the cracks in the wall.

"You would let people die because of my manners." Godric voice was quieter than it had been a moment before, it seemed like where another man might have shouted, Godric so loud already could only grow quieter.

"Everyone dies," Salazar said "Manners are one of the few things that let us tolerate each other while we live."

Godric stared at him "You yellow-bellied coward, you use your words as a shield, but no man would refuse to help for manners sake! Admit what you are, lazy swine and I'll leave, I'd prefer to fight the dragon alone and die, than to beg help from a selfish coward!"

Salazar stared at the man as thunder boomed outside and lightning flashed in Godric's eyes.

It had been a long time since anyone had been brave enough to insult Salazar, let alone the long list of insults Gordic had just thrown at him. Godric stood there looking at him, waiting for him to admit he was a coward. Salazar had fought many battles in his younger days and no one called him a coward. He took a deep breath before answering " I am not a coward."

Godric met his eyes and in them was all the wild power of a storm caller. "Then prove it." and with that Godric Gryffindor turned and walked out of his house without so much as a word of departure.

Salazar found himself walking along the muddy road next to Godric, who hadn't spoken to him since Salazar had caught up to him him on the road.

If you could even call it a road, in the rain the mud stuck to his leather shoes and even his staff (which he had quickly gone upstairs to fetch) didn't make it much easier to trudge through the rain and mud.

"It would be quicker to make a road," he muttered under his breath.

Godric shot him a glare, "It would be a lot easier if we didn't need to listen to someone's whining."

Salazar bit his tongue to stop himself from growling back at the youngling. One dragon and then he could go back to his tower and books.

"Where is this beast?" He asked.

"It won't be hard to see once we get a close," Godric said without even glancing his way.

Salazar could see the youth was in his element here in the mud with the taste of adventure on his tongue. Godric had a grin on his face whenever he looked at the sky, in fact Godric seemed to always have an easy grin, except when he looked at Salazar then it would contort into a scowl.

Salazar tried to enjoy the walk just like he tried to enjoy the strolls he took from his towers, but no sane person would enjoy walking in six inches of mud with wind and rain trying to cut them in half.

"Are we stopping soon?" Salazar finally asked after trudging through the mud for hours.

Godric sighed "The next town we come to will be as close as we can get to the dragon's lair, we'll get a room at the inn."

Salazar nodded seeing the light of fire flickering in windows ahead and glad to have a chance to rest.

The Town was small, nothing more than a few farms and one inn, they had heard more cows and sheep than people as they had walked along the long dirt path to the Inn. Here, finally they heard laughing voices and the music of a bard.

They pushed open the door of the Inn to see the usual crowd of farmers tired from spending all day in the field, one man who had to be a blacksmith from the look of him and two girls serving drinks, one a blossom that couldn't be over fourteen and the other a woman over thirty. There was the innkeeper behind the counter, he looked up as they entered.

"Visitors?" He asked, then before they could respond "What a sight, haven't see visitors around these parts in months, never common, but since the demon beast took to these parts, haven't seen a one. What can I get you, old man? This your grandson? Son? He said all of this in one long breath and would have continued, Salazar was sure, if Godric hadn't cut in "No, we just-met on the road."

"Man your age traveling alone, that safe in times like these? Won't let my old father travel alone. No, he stays in a room upstairs. You two want drinks? I got a nice pot o' soup all cooked up, thanks to me lovely wife." He waved at the older woman serving drinks, who smiled and waved back.

Salazar was suddenly reminded of why he no longer traveled among commonfolk.

"Shut up, let the bard tell his tale." One of the farmers called out "We don't come here to listen to you yakking on."

The Innkeeper gave a sheepish grin and walked off towards the kitchen.

With the pluck of a few strings a merry tune filled the air.

" _When I was apprenticed in London_

 _I went to see My Dear_

 _The candles all were burning_

 _the Moon shone bright and clear_

 _I knocked upon her window_

 _to ease her of her pain_

 _she rose up to let me in_

 _the barred the door again."_

The man singing looked to be in his late twenties, he had brown hair and odd eyes, the color was soft green, but they twinkled and caught the light so that they never looked the same. Both his tunic and traveling cloak were brown, but that could have been in part because of the mud. He carried no weapons as only bards could do. Salazar had more power stored away then he could ever have need of and even a storm caller like Godric carried a ruby hilted sword.

The bard's voice was a gentle baritone, and as the innkeeper's wife poured him a bowl of steaming stew, Salazar felt himself relax perhaps in spite of himself, he could hear the rain pound away outside, but it was warm inside and the bard's voice carried him off.

" _I like your well behaviour_

 _And this I often say_

 _I cannot rest contented_

 _When I am far away_

 _The roads they are so muddy_

 _we cannot walk about_

 _So roll me in your arms My Love_

 _And blow the candles out."_

The song was full of joy and youth, two things Salazar had long forgotten, but as he relaxed, the heat of the fire warming him and drying the mud into flakes, he felt a peace settle onto him soft as dying rain.

 _Your Father and your Mother_

 _In yonder room do lie_

 _A-hugging one another_

 _So why not you and I?_

 _A-hugging one another_

 _without a fear of doubt_

 _So roll me in your arms My Love_

 _An blow the candles out."_

Godric sat across from from him eating his own soup, he was watching the young serving girl as she glided about, his intentions clear in his eyes.

" _I prithee speak more softly_

 _Of what_ _we have to do_

 _Lest that our noise of talking_

 _Should make our pleasure rue_

 _The streets they are so nigh,love_

 _The people walk about_

 _They may peep in and sky, love_

 _So blow the candles out."_

Music and magic share many a quality and Salazar felt the old anger in his heart melting away. Even as he looked over to Godric he felt a little of his anger melt, perhaps he should try to speak to the young man.

" _And if we prove successful, love_

 _Please name it after me_

 _Treat it neat and kiss it sweet_

 _And daff it on your knee._

 _When my three years are over_

 _My time it will be out_

 _And I will pay my debt to you_

 _By blowing the candles out."_

The song ended and the bard happily accepted the couple of coins thrown his way. Salazar turned his attention to Godric "Sleep well."

Godric looked briefly away from the serving maid "I will sleep very well tonight! Not that an old man like you would know anything about that."

Salazar chuckled "I've been married three times boy, I know more about it than you would think."

Leaving Godric to his carefree attempts, he walked over to the Innkeeper "How much for a private room?"

"Private?" The Innkeeper raised an eyebrow. "One of those types are you? Rich? Think you're too good for everyone? Of course, I probably shouldn't be saying this, It's me mouth, my lovely wife," he nodded again towards the older woman. "She always tells me 'Adric, that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.' So, what are you some lord of something? Don't tell me you own this place!" He seemed to have run out of breath at least for the moment.

Salazar closed his eyes against the urge to turn him into something unpleasant,such as a frog missing it's back legs. "No, I just want a private room."

"Ah, well then that be three bits," The Innkeeper nodded. "You got me worried for a second there."

Salazar nodded mutely as he pulled his money out and set in on the counter, The Innkeeper didn't seem to stop for breath as he started to walk away. "Well, then, I'll show you to your room. Always nice to have a visitor, we don't get many in these parts."

"You have said," Salazar muttered

"Me lovely wife, she always loves visitors says it livening a place up a little, and me, I am glad to have someone new to talk to. I think it's good for the children, you know, getting to see a little more of the world. Course now people keep talking about dragons about. What's a person supposed to do? No one's coming these days and who can blame them? Couple o' people left, don't know where they think they can go to, if there is a dragon who knows when it will stop, course, I've seen the smoke, I have, don't know for sure if it's a dragon or not, but there sure is smoke."

The Innkeeper stopped in front of a door "Ah, here we are, best room in the place, chimney goes right up through here so it's the warmest too."

"Thank you," said Salazar "I'll be fine from here," he opened the door and stepped in, closing it again before the innkeeper could say anything else.

The room was nice enough. There was a window with moonlight shining in, in the dim light he could see two small tables in the room, the first was next to the door with a pitcher of water and a basin to wash. The second was next to the bed and it only had a unlit candle on it, he supposed that if he had let the innkeeper in he would have lit it for him,but no matter. He crossed to the bed and sat on it, it felt like the mattress was packed with firm straw and there was a thick quilt. It was warmer on this side of the room, no doubt do to the chimney that was a few feet from the bed.

He placed his staff next to his bed and touched a finger to the candle to light it. He took off his cloak and shoes,then sat on the bed. He smiled at the tiny flickering flame, as he watched it perform it's little solo dance for him, then he gently blew it out, before lying down to sleep. The moonlight shown in giving all the light he could need, and all Salazar wanted was a peaceful night sleep. So, of course, it was no surprise when he awoke to screaming.

 _Author's note : All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. The song Blow The Candles Out is a old folk song which I found on_ _.com_ _. Please Review._


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